The Jewish Chronicle - - COMMENT -

I HAD a lovely chat with Madge last week. She was wor­ried be­cause she had been called up for jury ser­vice in New York and was un­sure how to pro­ceed, what with her be­ing one of the world’s iconic women and jury rooms be­ing rather smelly places. I told her to march in there de­fi­antly, pos­si­bly an hour or so late, de­mand a meet­ing with the head clerk and tell him the truth – that she is far too fab­u­lous to be a com­mon ju­ror. She fol­lowed my ad­vice to the let­ter and was ex­cused. It all re­minded me of when I was called my­self. I was wear­ing dark glasses and a head­scarf so as to ap­pear incog­nito, but when my name was called in court, the judge re­alised I was The Mrs Co­hen. I was im­me­di­ately dis­missed as it was thought I would be a dis­trac­tion to the process of jus­tice. Nat­u­rally, I was pro­foundly dis­ap­pointed – I have al­ways been a mas­sive fan of Twelve An­gry Men – but I man­aged to con­sole my­self with lunch at The Ivy.

I popped over to LA to see lovely lit­tle Natalie Port­man, hard at work di­rect­ing A Tale of Love and Dark­ness – an adap­ta­tion of Amos Oz’s book. I worry about Natalie - she in­sists on eat­ing take­away mac­ro­bi­otic ve­gan food and I fear that the lack of meat and dairy has had a cat­a­strophic ef­fect on her abil­ity to name her chil­dren. Her three­year-old son is called Aleph and I have an aw­ful feel­ing that the next one will be Bet. Noth­ing that a good salt beef sand­wich or a lit­tle gefilte fish couldn’t sort out, but she has so far re­fused to bite. So wor­ry­ing.

An­other chap who has also been in trou­ble over his diet is Adam Rich­man, the cheery, chubby Amer­i­can host of Man v Food. Let me tell you that when you go round to Adam’s place, there is no short­age of snacks on of­fer but, but his at­tempts to lose a lit­tle of the puppy fat around his girth has been treated with dis­dain on so­cial me­dia, so much so that he launched into a tirade so lurid it made Andrew Strauss’s out­burst at the weekend seem the height of tact. His new show has been post­poned and he is in an aw­ful state. For­tu­nately the salt beef sand­wich that Natalie re­fused went down very well.

Roger Fed­erer’s people got in touch at the weekend to in­vite me to Wim­ble­don. I had vi­sions of be­ing seated next to David and Vic­to­ria in the royal box. How­ever it turned out that the Fed­erer nanny was un­well and they needed some­one re­spon­si­ble to look af­ter the four chil­dren. So while Roger was play­ing five sets I had two sets of twins to look af­ter. Though I’m a huge fan of Roger, I was al­most glad when Novak sealed the vic­tory. There are only so many mono­grammed nap­pies a girl can change.

Will Aleph, three, be fol­lowed by Bet?

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